


The Thought Reader - Additional Ending [Coda]

by california_112



Category: Biggles Series - W. E. Johns
Genre: Biggles of the Camel Squadron, Biggles of the Fighter Squadron, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Spoilers, Story related, The Thought Reader, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 00:39:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19414873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/california_112/pseuds/california_112
Summary: As Biggles looked up at Wat, Algy arrived at the side of the stationery Camel. He'd watched it land, and when Biggles hadn't exited the cockpit to read the signal, he wondered what was going on. As he mounted the other wing and saw the bloodstained handkerchief binding his cousin's temple, he knew he had been justified in his worry."Hullo, Biggles, I- good lord! What happened to your head?" he greeted urgently.-or-What happens after Biggles lands back at Maranique. It's not like him to just leave that Rumpler hanging around...SPOILERS FOR 'THE THOUGHT READER', FROM BIGGLES OF THE CAMEL SQUADRON (AKA BIGGLES OF THE FIGHTER SQUADRON)





	The Thought Reader - Additional Ending [Coda]

_As he landed at Maranique, Wat Tyler, the recording officer, handed him a signal._

_"From wing," he said. "What have you been up to now?"_

_Biggles tore the envelope open and smiled as he read: "Good work, Sherlock!" The initials below were Colonel Raymond's._

As Biggles looked up at Wat, Algy arrived at the side of the stationery Camel. He'd watched it land, and when Biggles hadn't exited the cockpit to read the signal, he wondered what was going on. As he mounted the other wing and saw the bloodstained handkerchief binding his cousin's temple, he knew he had been justified in his worry.

"Hullo, Biggles, I- good lord! What happened to your head?" he greeted urgently.

Wat, who had not seen Biggles' wound from his side of the aeroplane, suddenly became alarmed, and at Algy's insistence jumped down to fetch the doctor.

"The Rumpler was watching the corn for a message." Biggles slurred, staring at the instrument panel in an effort to make it stop swaying.

"I don't care about that," Algy said, "How did you get this wound on your head? Did you get into a dogfight with the Rumpler?"

"I, uh…was shot." Biggles said, closing his eyes. "By the spy. But he's dead now."

He was now sincerely regretting his decision to fly after the wound the spy had given him, as his head pounded mercilessly. The wave of dizziness which had threatened to overcome him on his sprint to his Camel returned, overrunning his thoughts and making the hard seat of the Camel seem to rock beneath him. He was vaguely aware of Algy and another pair of hands helping him from the cockpit before he opened his eyes and the scene returned to focus.

It appeared that most of the aerodrome personnel were gathered around the Camel, the fuselage of which he found himself to be clinging to as though for dear life. Algy was looking at him with deep, and understandable, concern from his side, and the other officers whispered among themselves. As he watched, the medical officer managed to push his way to the front with a stretcher, which Biggles sank gratefully onto. Immediately, the area around the graze was being prodded and poked, but he batted the hands away feebly.

"It's just a graze, I'll sleep it off." he protested

"At least let me put a bandage around it." the doctor said firmly, and Biggles had no choice but to comply.

Once the last pin had been fixed, and the crowd of officers had mostly dispersed, he got to his feet and took a deep breath, announcing his plan to have a short nap. Then, as normally as possible, he walked to his quarters and shrugged off his tunic onto the floor, collapsing onto his bed. As he closed his eyes, and tried to block out his thumping head, he was borne away into blackness.

* * *

Biggles woke up some time later still in his own bed, but loosely tucked under a blanket, head rocking but otherwise feeling rested. His discarded clothing had been hung up on the back of the door, and the curtains were half closed. Through the gap, he could see that the sun was just beginning to dip towards the horizon, so it couldn't be all that late in the day. After a small effort to get up, and fight a wave of dizziness, he pulled on a tunic and stepped outside. The cool air was refreshing, and he leant against the wall for a minute, inspecting the dressing with his fingertips. The doctor seemed to have done a good job.

He was jerked from this reverie by a familiar voice in the distance, and accompanying footsteps.

"Biggles, you're awake!" Algy, grinning from ear to ear, was hurrying towards him from the mess. "I was just coming over to see how you felt."

"Awful." Biggles returned with a smile, but not completely joking. "My head's rocking like a Camel in a heatwave."

"Well, you did get shot there." his cousin returned, relieved. "The doc said you're lucky it wasn't any worse; a fraction either way and it could have missed you completely, or…well…" he trailed off, then picked up brightly. "What exactly happened, with that?"

Sitting down together over a very late lunch, Biggles related how he had seen the signal in the corn, and landed to confront the agent, as well as his subsequent chase of the Renault and how he saved the brigade. Algy became increasingly incredulous as he heard the risks Biggles had taken, but knew better than to raise the point- his cousin wouldn't have done it any other way. Finally, as they pushed their plates away, Biggles turned to what Colonel Raymond was likely to think.

"Well, he'll be glad that the signals aren't being sent anymore," Algy pointed out, "so the business end of this operation is gone."

"Yes, that's what I thought." Biggles agreed. "However, one loose end remains- the Rumpler. They could just bring another agent over to carry on the job."

"It's possible…"

"But it'll be less likely if we shoot down the Rumpler."

Algy raised his eyebrows.

"We?" he challenged, voice heavy with sarcasm. "Oh no, you can finish up your little spy thriller. I'm happy to watch from the ground, thanks."

Biggles looked a little put out, but only shrugged. "Suits me. I want to be up in plenty of time to get the Hun, so I'll go to bed now." With a parting wave, he left for his quarters, leaving an order for his batman to wake him at the suitably early hour.

* * *

The next morning, Biggles' Camel raced across the tarmac and took to the air twenty minutes before the Rumpler was due over the group of poplars. Climbing for height, he looked around to check that nothing out of place, and no messages had somehow appeared, and then settled down to wait.

Sure enough, at the usual time, the Rumpler came beetling over, through the small white clouds of allied archie, and straight on course for the wood. However, once he arrived over the message field, the pilot's confusion was instantly apparent. First, he did a low pass of the field, and then of the remains of the burnt-out farmhouse. Apparently not finding this troubling, he began to describe a wide spiral from the field, evidently looking for any other messages.

This was just the ticket that Biggles had been waiting for. Standing his Camel on its tail with the sun between him and the agent, he roared down on its back, thumb hovering over the firing button. Biggles did not think that the Rumpler could not have seen him, so intent on his ground search did he appear, but just as the other biplane swan into his sights, it suddenly rolled away to the right, and Biggles zoomed right through the air where it had been seconds previously, cursing. As the Rumpler lined up on his tail, he realised that this obviously dangerous job, though technically routine, had been assigned to a skilled pilot. It seemed that there was a line attaching the two aircraft, so closely did the Rumpler stay on Biggles tail, and it was a wonder that the enemy pilot only got a few short bursts in, which did next to no harm.

However, Biggles was pulling every evasive manoeuvre he'd ever known to try and get out of the hot situation, and it wasn't doing wonders for his head. In the face of Algy's worry, he had been determined to make light of his injury, but he now realised what a folly that had been. Pulling a tricky roll, he saw his range of vision close up a little, and suddenly thought he might black out. Coming out on an even keel, but not for more than a second, he instantly flipped the other way, and went into a spin. Wiping his gauntlet across his head, he was horrified to see traces of blood come back on it, but couldn't stop to think about it then. There seemed to be…spots, dancing in front of him, getting larger, and he pulled onto a straight course to try and look at them more clearly.

Afterwards, he saw clearly how that had been the invitation that the Rumpler pilot had been waiting for. The straight and level Camel was dead meat, and he pressed the firing button even from outside the accurate firing range. However, fate was not on the Hun's side. Glancing to see what the Camel pilot was staring so intently at, he was just in time to see death blazing at him in the form of two pairs of Vickers guns- Mahoney's morning patrol had arrived.

As the pilots of that flight remarked later, the German pilot had been too sure of himself at the last, and that had been his downfall. The pilot obviously hit, the Rumpler had spiralled to earth and given the fighter a fitting funeral pyre in the very cornfield the messages had come from.

Biggles couldn't swear to anything that happened after he saw the black dots resolve into Camels. His head pounding, he had set the best course he knew for Maranique, and settled down to try and land without cartwheeling. A rather bumpy touchdown achieved, he was once more greeted by a worried Algy on his left wing.

"Did you get him?"

Biggles blinked owlishly before replying. "No, but I think someone did. He certainly wasn't in the sky when I left it."

"I got him for you." Mahoney broke in, dropping to the ground from his own Camel and hurrying over to Biggles'. "He nearly got you though, my patrol stepped in at the last minute. Are you feeling alright?" He ended, with genuine concern.

"I think he should be taking that 'graze' a bit more seriously." The doctor had hurried over to intercept the Camel as well. "I thought I said a week's rest from flying?"

Neither Biggles nor Algy had heard that said yesterday, and exchanged a glance. Mahoney looked resigned, and Biggles contrived to look ashamed. Algy, who ostensibly had no part in the proceedings, promised to divide up his cousin's duties whilst he was on sick leave, and led him protesting towards his quarters.

"I feel fine!"

"Just as fine as you did when you made that landing?"

"Just as fine as that."

"Well then you must feel terrible. That was the worst landing I've seen you do yet." Algy said, bundling Biggles through the door with little ceremony. "Batman? He's not to be out of bed until at least tomorrow, if not the day after. I'll get his meals sent over." With that he left, bumping into Colonel Raymond coming in as he did so.

"Lacey, I heard Bigglesworth had been hit!" He asked concernedly. "Is he alright?"

"No, sir," Algy replied, then held back a laugh as the Colonel's eyes went wide, "he's just as stubborn as always."

**Author's Note:**

> i actually got this done pretty quickly, huh
> 
> I'm back for the summer! Hoping to post stuff more often and for some new fandoms (as well as the old ones!), so watch out for that! :D


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